There Are No Bastards North of the Wall
by KissedbyDirt
Summary: Ygritte wants Jon to father a child on her. He is strictly opposed. (Essentially dirt. Poorly written also!)
1. Sweet

[/kissedbydirt]

 **There Are No Bastards North of the Wall**.

* * *

x

 **Ygritte**

x

"Ygritte!" he cried. " _Ygritte!"_

I loved it when Jon Snow spoke my name, 'specially when he said it just like that; all angry, as you like. _His voice was sweet like bees' sap…_ I couldn't help but grin.

 _"Y-gritte!"_

I got to thinking of what the fine ladies down south might say t' him calling for me. They'd call it romantic, probably. But they'd be too dumb to realize I stole his sword. I kept my run, hearing Jon's voice echo from the mouth of the cave. " _Seven hells! ..."_

He followed in after me, just as I was fitting my torch between some rocks.

I was lucky that day. Lucky in the cave itself. I'd disappeared earlier, looking for what could be found; I'd never been so close to the Wall. Tormund saw me off, but warned never to start thinking I really knew the place— ' _cause that's a fine way to become a wight_. _Be careful out there_. Every time, just nodded yes and kept on. He never once asked to come along, and in that I was grateful.

On my trip most recent, I heard the sound of running water... and I chanced upon the cave. It was the deepest sort; must've gone on for miles and miles, under the Wall and out the south. At about a hundred paces, I called out t' Gendel's children.

 _All to no answer._ I heard only the sound of falling water.

* * *

T'was a shallow li'l pool, seductive nonetheless. _How long had it been since I'd had a real bath— not just snow heated over the fire?_ The water wasn't real cold, not real deep either, so I stepped out of my clothes and let it chase the chill that had settled deep within my bones. Stark naked, I was.

My thoughts drifted to Jon Snow.

"Is 'e right? _Orell?_ Are you still a _crow_?" I pulled off my boots, letting them fall where they fell. I discarded my weapons.

"Ygritte—" Jon said, in warning.

"You swore some vows; I want you to break 'em." I dropped my cloak, the weight of it melting from my body. "I'd have you see me, " I said, unlacing the front of my breeches, lifting the last of my skins and furs high above my head. " _All of me."_

I watched his eyes as I proceeded towards him. They were filled with desire and disapproval; it was a battle I wanted to end.

"We shouldn't." Jon's voice echoed through the cave, hushed, until it grew faint.

"We _should_ ," I said, pressing my lips to his.

x

 **Jon**

x

 _We shouldn't._ The voice grew fainter, as Ygritte drew closer.

 _I should have known not to follow her here,_ I thought.

 _But how could I have known she'd be so beautiful, standing before me; naked as the moon?_

And flawed the same _,_ I saw, in the scars afleck on her porcelain skin. _Her flaws are quick. Her smile lasts, while scars fade._ From the most apparent to the most subtle, I longed to trace each of those scars. I could almost feel my fingers skating across her body; through the red of her hair.

She is lucky, fire-kissed… _and you are a man of the Night's Watch_.

When Ygritte brushed her lips against mine, just barely, I recoiled as if I'd been burned.

Her eyes flickered, lips glistening wet and red. Undaunted, she bent forward to meet me again; lightning struck through my body. Still, I managed to hesitate— it took all that I had.

"We _shouldn't …_ " the voice was no longer my own.

"We _should._ We _both_ know it…" Ygritte looked directly into my eyes just then. Hers shone as lively as any I knew, full of passion and fire and something I couldn't place. Stirred me in a way I couldn't place. I knew couldn't resist her for much longer, I couldn't—

" _Oh …_ you know _nothing,_ Jon Snow _,_ " Ygritte said, biting at my lower lip— and the battle was lost. I returned her kisses all at once.

"I know I want you," I heard myself say, all my vows and my honour forgotten, lost in the smell of her hair and the heat of her mouth. I kissed her in the way that I thought I was supposed to, and she matched my every motion, pushing up higher on her toes. Her kisses were fervent, her sweet pink tongue had found its way between my teeth. _Harder, harder, as hard as the rock around us._ Breathless, I tried my best to counter her fierce kisses.

"Too fast?" Ygritte teased, slowing… and she came to a stop altogether.

I braced myself for another barrage to my lips.

But Ygritte stood, and was still— all except for her wintry ocean eyes. They were filled with a certain longing, and they darted between mine.

 _Hesitant?_

 _Never._

I bent forward to meet her, slowly, teasing her in turn. I traced the curve of her lips with my tongue, open lips suckling with every bit of the gentleness and effective restraint that she couldn't be bothered with.

I was rewarded with what sounded almost like a wistful sigh. With one hand resting at the small of her back, my other grazed the line of her jaw. Her sigh, this time laced with unmistakable yearning, was exceptionally sweet to my ears. _Sweet like bees' sap..._

"A pretty face and pretty kisses will only get you so far," said Ygritte, her voice husky as smoke.

"Aye," I said, "... and I've managed just fine."

I nuzzled my lips into the soft of her throat, and pulled her closer still, until our bodies were flush against one another.

"Are you cold?" I touched my lips to her shoulder, feeling her quiver against me.

"No," she shivered. "It's only you making me feel so."

I snatched another taste of her lips, and as the last of her warmth seemed to melt into my mouth, I hoped to replace it.

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt** x

Originally posted April the 7th, 2015; posted anew on December the 7th, 2015. Content revised on May the 5th and most recently on June the 29th.

 _As you can see, time does what she wants, but I always had it in my mind to continue this story.  
Always, always, always. There is no chance will I ever completely abandon it, no matter how much time should come to pass._

 _The following chapter is dirt aplenty and the first of several in this story. Readers take warning._

Thank-you for giving this story a chance!


	2. Warm

[/kissedbydirt]

x

 **Jon**

x

* * *

In my embrace, Ygritte felt lithe and delicate, such a _skinny_ thing. Strong as she might be, and certainly was, I wondered how a girl could be so small.

 _She has her bow, but in close combat... size beats agility, nine times out of ten._ I worried that someone, someday, might succeed in overpowering her. My fear was fleeting. _What man would test his strength against Ygritte?_

I brushed the fur of my gloves against her skin. She was colder than she let on, and you could blame it on impatience. _She'd been in such a hasten to remove her clothes ..._

Stuck in furs was the only way I'd ever known her. I'd sworn it it would stay that way _._

Last time it was for warmth _... this time ..._

I slid away from the kiss, suckling at the icy poise of Ygritte's neck. Though I seemed to have warmed her everywhere else, her skin was cool against my lips. In a careless trice, I left wine-coloured stains to glisten above her collarbone. Ygritte might insist it didn't matter, that she didn't care, but I wished I'd been more gentle.

I found her pulse, not-quite-steady under my tongue, and she tilted her head back to invite my kisses. A pleasant sigh escaped her lips; an expectant shudder ran through my body. And the doubt came creeping back, forcing me to receive my pleasure with guilt.

 _This is wrong_. It wasn't part of any plan… I didn't have to do it.

But in a way, I did. I just _had_ to.

... _Was this how it was for my father, when he disgraced himself in my mother's bed?_ I wondered if Ygritte would let me stop; surely I had done enough. I could feel the carved red eyes in the weirwood grove... watching me, staring, witness to my every broken vow. It was an unwelcome feeling, so cold.

 _But Ygritte is warm_. _So real, standing before me_.

She shivered again— not out of cold.

The need cut through me, sharper than a blade of Valyrian steel.

I inhaled the peppery scent of her hair, and trailed lower— further, with my kisses...

Before I could think, I'd reached her chest. Ygritte's breasts were just as small as the rest of her; fair and proud. I made to admire them with a softer kind of wanting than before— a slight hesitation at the height of each, and my kisses trailed further still.

 _A deed's truer than words._ She'd said it, hadn't she? Sure of myself now, I kissed her there, lightly, between the legs.  
Ygritte let out a little gasp, opening herself up to me. _S_ he tasted pink. I heard her again, all asigh.

"You're still in your clothes ..."

"I am," I agreed, hardly removing my mouth from her.

"You really know nothing, Jon Sn—"

Her words cut short. Eyes shut tight.

 _... Hands in my hair._

"Abso... lutely... _nothin'_... ... Oh, _gods!"_

Nails on my scalp.

x

 **Ygritte**

x

 _To_ _think I thought you a maid._

My voice echoed through the cave once more, a wordless cry of pleasure, as Jon let a finger slide between my quivering folds. As he touched his lips to the flush of my skin, his grip on my leg tightened, limiting my movement, as to control what he did, and how he did it.

 _"F-fuck,"_ I gasped, choking on the word _._

Jon just chuckled, letting his teeth graze the inside of my thigh. A moment later, when he joined a second finger to his first, I made sound to my delight— a groan mixed with curse, for I couldn't decide. Neither could I see Jon's smile, but I sure could feel it, wide and beaming.

His smile soon faded— teeth for tongue. Jon sucked at my skin, as slow as anything, but hard enough... I didn't care if he left a mark, and I hoped he didn't, either.

With each dive of his fingers, he breached an eternity. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough... as if his touch was a sacred thing to spend, he acted orderly and careful with it. _Why be so damn_ _shy,_ I wondered— _just when his fingers twisted within me—_

As my back began to arch, Jon slowed, giving way to empty space.

"Jon Snow," I pleaded, "Don't stop, my sweet—"

"Too fast?" he chirped.

" _Bastard—_ "

His tongue delved back in.

 _I could barely handle all o' the sensation at once._ Jon's actions were not random or desperate as they should have been, as they went. In truth, they barely hinted of inexperience. I figured that... if he claimed to be a maid, he was lying.

 _And I'd wanted to be his first._

Still, he found nerves that neither of us were certain existed. He'd reach for as much of me as possible, but made a shy ending, so just his breath would kiss me, sometimes _. The crow's a tricksy bird._ My hands grappled with his hair— if I didn't hold onto something, I'd lose myself.

I had barely the time to notice he'd released me again, when his hands changed posts— one moved to massage my hip, and his other glided two fingers back into my centre. I welcomed him with a sharp intake of breath, a swift jerk on his shoulders. The rest of his attention turned to me and my sensitive bundle of nerves, which he guided into his mouth and held, soft-like. It was enough; he sent me into shivers right then. I dug my nails into his skin, trying to _feel_ , for all it was worth.

" _You're going to kill me_ … _if you go on like this_ —"

"Truly?" Jon whispered. _"I'd best stop …"_

I cursed for him to keep at it, _and would he please shut up!_

x

 **Jon**

x

I wondered if any other girl would be so hard to please. Ygritte wasn't like most girls... but she was close. I could feel it.

With a final, rough suck, I pulled away, pressing my lips to the crease of her hip. I wove my fingers inside to soothe her wanting, trying for a moment to catch my breath.

Ygritte gave an odd squeak, her body tightening around my fingers.

"Oh _…_ " she said. " _It feels like_ …"

She inhaled with a hiss, unable to complete her thought for the restless twitching in her hips and spine. As her body tensed with pure, ineffable feeling, she tilted her head back and let out a scream, all through clenched teeth. Another pulse rolled through, this time coating my hand wet. I was slightly caught off guard, but acting the pro, I had a taste of her sweetness again.

I worried about kissing her on the mouth after that, but my worry slipped somewhere between her quicksworn _we don't care._

She'd managed to turn me so I had my back against a smooth surface near the water's edge. I had barely the time to be impressed by the idea she'd actually _planned_ such a manoeuvre when the shove came-— and suddenly, Ygritte was atop me, straddling me, shoving her tongue down my throat.

With each breath she gave a growl of frustration, and only kissed harder afterwards. It was coming to a point where I feared she would soon leave bruises on my lips. She moved against the front of me, thrusting her hips back and forth, rousing me in the best way— _faster, faster._

She pulled the furs off my shoulders, fingers working nimbly to undo the laces at the front of my breeches— even going so far as to try and undo them with her teeth. Her attempt was elegant, for the most part, but she'd either been too impatient, or was too inexperienced to pull it off.

I didn't care... except for the increasing tension of my groin.

Ygritte whispered sweet things into my ear, her tongue gliding over my newly exposed flesh. _Ravishing_ , she hushed; a fancy southern word that had made its way over the Wall _._

 _Ravishing,_ she cooed, like a dove.

She undid the laces properly, with her hands, while I fixed my cloak so we might lay atop it. A bed of sorts, soft as any, made by the heap of discarded furs. Once the laces were done, Ygritte yanked my breeches down, with an audacious _,_ pronounced daring. At the sight of my arousal, her lips curved upwards, with such a delight written on her face that it flattered me to be admired so. I blushed accordingly, and leaned over, turning her to my advantage— so I might back her against the furs.

My fingers danced over each of her perfect angles and curves, feeling for anything I hadn't quite noticed before. I traced the lift of her chin, the arch of her back, the swell of her breasts. I tilted my head beneath hers, and nuzzled my lips to the soft of her throat. I whispered all wanting into her skin, burying my nose in her thick red hair.

She just smiled. "Have me now, my wolf o' Winterfell."

* * *

I made to spread Ygritte's slender, white legs. She was wet and rosy between; ripe for the taking, but I found I'd lost in confidence what I'd spent in pleasuring her with my mouth. I didn't trust myself. _What of the consequences?_

I flirted around her entrance, unsure as anything. _This is something I have to do. All I want is you ..._

"Hurry now," came Ygritte's whispered, impatient voice. "If you'll have me. I'm yours, I'm yours—"

I looked over my beloved Ygritte. You give yourself away- it's all I am not to do the same.

I gave her a light kiss under the breast. All to regret. _Now._

Her heat was immediate. Overwhelming. I was inside her; she was inside me.

I took a moment, barely able to think for the feeling; _for the grit of my teeth—_

I moved, ever slightly, only to hear Ygritte's breath catch.

My sigh rippled, stuck in my throat, as her eyes fluttered to meet mine. Her look was broken ice in the spring.

"Gods, have I... _hurt you?"_

I couldn't imagine I'd just— I looked down for blood at the place where we were met.

"No, it's only… I've been aching for this, Jon Snow. I've wanted you so long. It's too good for words."

"It is," I agreed.

When I started in again, shallow and slow-like, Ygritte wrapped her legs around me, spurring me to take up all the space inside her. The push, the pull, and deeper still.

Ygritte rewarded me with the most delightfully evocative of sounds. I wanted to know them, as I felt them. Her sharp intakes of breath, and exhales, mixed with sigh. Her voice was an echo, stirring me to thrust deeper— she accepted more of me each time. I still worried about hurting her, but if I ever did, she wouldn't say. She never did seem to wince or cry out for pain.

I was relieved. I lost myself in the warmth of her flesh; it was a rush like I'd never imagined.

 _I couldn't help but wonder._ How can something _so wrong_ feel so unbearably good?

x

 **Ygritte**

x

I imagined my heart beating in time with Jon's, as he pushed into me, firm and full and steady.

Each thrust woke steam and sensation in my body... it was as if something deep inside of us... was melting together.

My head was light as a feather, cloudy as a stormy day.

"Jon, _my sweet…"_

 _"Yes,"_ he hushed, rocking me with another jerk of his hips. Somehow, he found my lips through our hasty lovemaking. His lips were soft, fuller than I remembered. I returned the kiss with a wet hunger, making his mouth open for my tongue. The kiss couldn't last so long, though— the clash of our bodies required a great amount of breath.

I heard Jon groan, before his words came. _"So warm,"_ his breathless praise. "The _warmest ..."_

He brushed back a strand of my hair, with a gentle hand. I was struck by his tenderness. I felt his lips touch my neck, and he drew me closer.

 _It felt like every part of me was being touched by him._ It felt like…

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling myself falter. "Snow—"

Seized with feeling and lost in the moment of my pleasure, it felt as if my lungs had halved in weight. Jon let out a frazzled breath, and his thrusts became urgent; rushed.

 _All to regret._ I shrugged out from beneath him.

 _"E... Ygritte…"_

I could see Jon's teeth clench together, cursing, as I spread over him; kissed the shell of his ear. _"Do it,"_ I hushed.

I gripped his shoulders fast.

As he thrust himself inside me, he let out a snarled gasp; I had to cry out as well.

In a few quick strokes, it was done. He called out my name; a flayed whisper. _Ygritte, Ygritte, Ygritte._ His voice filled my ears and echoed, until I couldn't hear it anymore.

Any ache I might've felt was soon replaced by a silky, unfamiliar feeling.

 _Like the petals of a rose outspread within me._ I sighed for the feel of it; it felt as if I'd never be empty again, and warm for all time.

My heart was racing. I was seeing _stars._

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt** x

Chapter posted December the 16th; content revised on May the 5th and most recently on June the 29th.

 _I wish Jon hadn't pleasured Ygritte with his mouth, in retrospect, because I did no justice whatsoever to that interaction.  
_

... Thank-you endearingly for the read, my dear reader.


	3. Flame

[/kissedbydirt]

x

 **Jon**

x

" _Have me now, my wolf of Winterfell."_

* * *

 _In another life, we might have been married,_ I thought.

 _We might have been married before the heart tree, with all the gods in witness._

 _In another life... I might have named her Ygritte of House Stark._

I imagined her now, draped in a motley maiden's cloak of feather and fox; her dress of silk and grey sky. I reckoned Ygritte's hair could be worked in and out of its curl, but I liked it better as it was; hardly tame, kissed by flame.

 _The fires would flicker like Ygritte's eyes to mine._ _Her grin would be the moon above us._

The night would be as black as raven's wings... as dark as the hair of the children she might give me.

 _"I claim her... Jon of House Stark."_  
I could not think of the rest. "Who gives her?"

"I give myself away," Ygritte would say. "You know _nothing_ , Jon Snow."

I'm yours, and you're mine— _until the last season ends._

We would join hands then, and kneel before the heart tree.

 _The only time she kneels._ I could almost feel her fingers, wrapped about mine.

After a moment's silent prayer, we'd rise again. _As one, although we are not._ Mournfully, I would take the fox and feather cloak from shoulders… and replace it with one of wool and fur, of snow white and grey; emblazoned with the direwolf of House Stark.

I would carry Ygritte in my arms then, if she'd let me, and walk with her for a time.

She might even rest her head against my chest.

 _She trusts me…_ I _know_ she does _. That's how it should be, between a man and his wife._

 _How these wounding words are sweet— I'm not a Stark_. _I yearn for the impossible._ In an instant, Ygritte's cloak became one of midnight; the one of mine own, the one I left behind. _She will never be mine,_ even cloaked in black wool, black feathers, as black as raven's wings.

 _Ygritte of_ _Snow._

* * *

x

 **Ygritte**

x

After, as we lay exhausted on the furs, wrapped up in each other, Jon whispered, "I …"

"Yooouu…" I mocked. I laughed softly, catching a lock of his hair between my fingers.

Jon's eyes narrowed playfully, though his words were as much serious as they were gentle. "I think …"

"You _think_?"

He stroked my cheek, just smiling. "Ygritte. I think I love you."

I loved it when he said my name; all soft, as you like.  
"You _think_ ," I grinned, "... you don't know?"

Jon offered quick grin in return, but it was gone as soon as that.

"Tormund, and the others… they must be wondering where we are."

"I don't want to think about Tormund and the others. Let's stay a while longer—"

"We've been here an hour," Jon whispered. "An hour… and half again. We should head back. "

He nodded towards the torch I'd brought, as it gave out the last of its flickering light. "Your torch is almost done. We'll be pitched in darkness."

"Men are like flames, Jon Snow," I wondered when I'd heard it the first time. "They can be lit again, more oft than not."

I touched my forehead to his, closing my eyes. _"Stay with me."_

He ran his fingers through my hair, kissed my neck, my cheek, my lips… and before I knew, he was inside me again.

 _I don't ever want t'leave this cave, Jon Snow._

Not _ever._

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt** x **  
**

Chapter posted February the 17th; content revised on May the 5th and most recently on June the 29th.

 _Thank-you dearly for reading. I feel incredibly grateful for the reviews I've received so far; thank-you so much._


	4. After

[/kissedbydirt]

x

 **Ygritte**

x

* * *

 _"That thing you did…"_ I started.

"Mmm."

"With your… _mouth."_

Jon smiled. "You seemed to like it."

"Aye, I liked it, some. Is that what lords do to their ladies in the south?"

"Don't know. I just wanted to kiss you there, is all— _in the south,_ as you say."

I bit the soft of his lower lip. "I could... I could see if you liked it any. _The lady's kiss."_

"You'll make it so it hurts for a week."

"I won't! I promise. I can be… gentle."

Jon laughed, kissed me proper. "I like you better up here. I want to see the stars in your eyes."

He curved some loose red strands over my ear, cupped my cheek. I sighed for it.

"I was sort of sad, as you were making love to me, Jon Snow."

"How come?"

"I wanted t' be the only person who's ever touched you."

Jon's smile turned right soft. "There's been no-one else. Only you."

"But... the lord's kiss... no-one taught you such?"

He shook his head.

"I wanted to know if you taste as sweet as you look—"

"And?"

"Better. Sweet as bees' sap, maybe sweeter."

 _I was Jon's first._ _I couldn't believe._ "You were a maid..."

"I was a man of the Night's Watch."

There was a pause. "… What about you? Were you a maid?"

"What do you think?"

Jon's eyebrows raised, as if to say _, that many?_

I punched him on the shoulder.

"There was just the one, 'bout five years past. He had red hair, like me. So I thought he must be lucky. He'd come t' steal himself a wife, saw me... n' fell in love."  
I grinned, remembering how his face lit up. "O'course, he knew less than nothing about breaking a girl's maidenhead, so it could be I was half a maid when we met, Jon Snow."

"Less than nothing?" Jon seemed to have his doubts. "What happened to him?"

"He was weak. So I wasn't about to be stolen, not by him. Tormund broke both o' his arms and sent 'im on his way." I said all this matter-o'-factly. "The other lads weren't bold enough to try and steal me after that. Ugly besides."

"There was really no-one else?"

"Oh yes," I joked, "... for I'm kissed by fire. Next there was this Thenn boy. Gods, I gave him a fight. I never did learn his calling, though— for he spoke just the Old Tongue. But did he know where to put it... that Old Tongue o' his, I mean."

"Yeah, thanks," Jon blurted, "I think I've heard enou—"

"And me poor father..." I sniffed. "Savage though 'e was, he fed 'imself to the shadowcats when he caught wind o' my undoing. _Wee Gritty, she be ruined!_ Never t' find any _nobbly-man_ _t'_ come and take me in the _castle… "_

 _"— enough! Ugh!"_

Jon grinned and sucked at my neck, which only served to make me laugh harder.

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt**

Chapter posted March the 14th; content revised on May the 5th and most recently on June the 29th.

 _Thank-you for the kind words. Sorry for my writing, honest_ _—this chapter is so silly and short!  
_


	5. Heart

[/kissedbydirt]

x

 **Jon**

x

* * *

I lay still, listening to Ygritte breathe a long while, with my head rested against her.

It turned out to be her words that broke the silence.

"D'you know what would be amazing?" Ygritte's eyes glittered like southron jewels. "If we had a little baby. I would name him Summer— _isn't that the most beautiful name for  
a baby?_ I would keep him warm for always. I'd swaddle him in furs, feed him at my breast, and sing him the song o' the winter rose..."

"A _baby?"_

"Aye, a sweet wee one, with your hair and my eyes. Or yours both, I wouldn't mind—"

She stopped suddenly, when she noticed my smile had vanished.

"Ygritte, this isn't a good life for a child."

"I know— t'was only I meant …" she seemed offended. _"After_ we've taken our land back. Should be just shy of a year 'til then, and that's around how long babies take to grow. The ground will be soft, the land will be ripe—"

"Winter is coming," I interrupted. "Short as it might be, the cold will last long after the Spring thaw."

"We head further south," said Ygritte, stubbornly.

"I would not dishonour you. The child... would be a bastard—"

Still Ygritte shook her head.

"Jon Snow, you know nothing. _There are no bastards north of the Wall."_

* * *

I did know some things. I knew I'd sworn to take no wife, hold no lands, and father no children.

 _If you get talking about a son of your own flesh and blood, you'll want him so badly you could die._

I'd not let myself speak, or even dream, of a child. It was not my fate. It was a part of the vow. I'd been bound for the Wall, on promises of honour and duty, since I was old enough to understand what it meant that Lady Stark wasn't my mother, and that I had no welcome in Winterfell— it would come to Robb, and his to heir.

I would find a place to belong at the Wall, a family of sorts, though none of us could have a family for true.

 _What is honour, compared to a woman's love?_

I recalled Maester Aemon's words; his unseeing eyes reflecting the ghost of a lover.

 _What is duty… against the feel of a newborn son in your arms…_

I don't care about all that. I remembered when I said it, when I meant it.

The time comes when a man must choose, and I'd made my choice— _the old gods in witness._ Knelt before a heart tree, the words came easy. Even to dream otherwise was a waste. _Love is the bane of honour, the death of duty. Love is the passion of the unbound. Love is for the weak of heart, the false._

I could not admit the reason of my reluctance to Ygritte. _What would she believe?_

"You mean to have this child _south_ of the Wall," I started, carefully. "There's nothing waiting for us there but danger, even death."

Ygritte had turned away, her blush angry and red.

I faced her to me.

"If you think the Night's Watch would spare the bastard child of a deserter, you're wrong, Ygritte. _Dead wrong._ "

"The crows would never catch us," she said, pulling out of my grip, her teeth bared. Her eyes were a storming blue, defiant as anything. _My hair, and her eyes._  
"I'd kill them all, every last. I'd pluck out their eyes and gut 'em, protectin' our li'l babe. And you'd help me, if it came to it. We fight together."

She meant her words so dearly, it seemed for an instant as if she might cry for them

I extended a hand, and gently brushed my thumb against the rosyth of her breast. _You don't know my heart._

"The reason I joined the Night's Watch," I started, slowly, as she stiffened under my touch, "… was because I had nothing— nothing to give, and nothing to lose. False of blood and blank of name. I wouldn't wish the same on anyone." I was struck by how much the words hurt to say.

"I could never father a bastard… another bastard named _Snow…"_

"A man is more than his name," said Ygritte. "Summer would be as strong as the northern wind— as free as a heart can love. He'd be as brave and true as any other."

 _She's not hearing me._

"We didn't even name you such. _Snow._ It was all the work of your Kingsland—"

"Ygritte, this can't happen again." _It shouldn't have._ "Not if it means I might get you with child."

Ygritte's gaze flickered, wounded.

"You don't think I'd be a good mother."

"No, Ygritte—"

"It's plain enough to see. I have nothin' to give. Only love."

 _Nothing to give,_ I thought, _and everything to lose._

"It's all fine," Ygritte smiled, however false. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt** x

Chapter posted March the 14th; content revised on May the 5th and most recently on June the 29th.

 _I want to write some more folly for Jon and Ygritte before they get to the Wall. Their story would normally go faster, but I'm taking my liberties here. I can't think of how to write those Wall scenes. Not that they will be content in the next chapter. You would not believe the passages I wrote months and months ago for this story... and none of them have anything to do with the Wall. That being said, thank-you for the support thus far. Every review is thoroughly beamed over. I smile for hours— even to the next day._


	6. Dream

[/kissedbydirt]

x

 **Jon**

x

* * *

There was a lovely warmth in Ygritte's cheeks, after, when her hair had dried and she was cozy in her furs.

She was making faces— I didn't like that.

"Everyone will know," I warned.

 _"About you and me?_ You're mine, Jon Snow. Now I have your virginity to show for it."

* * *

As the darkness of the cave was drowned out fully by the light of the open air, Ghost came bounding towards us.

I was surprised by his conviction.

He came first to me, and wasted no time, sniffing all around my lap. I was flushed.

He went next to Ygritte, eager for the whiffs of her as well.

"Smell good, don't I?"

Ghost yawned, so hard it made him sneeze. Ygritte was amused.

"He's usual awful shy," she said, mussing up the fur around his neck and teasing it by the ears.

"He thinks something's off with his nose, I reckon. I smell of you, and you smell of me."

"Mine's all the better, far as smells go. Maidens _reek,_ love! Even your dog could smell it."

Ghost gave a hearty whine.

"But you said you were, mm, half a maid as well—"

"Was I? But it doesn't seem like, does it? A maiden, kissed by fire, though I am?"

"You are," I affirmed. "Rarer than any."

Ghost yawned at us, sneezed, and went bounding off again.

"Kissed by fire," Ygritte smiled, "... and fucked by Snow. It's got a ring! They should sing us a tale for it."

"They shouldn't," I smirked. I pulled Ygritte into my arms. "I would sing it to you."

"But how it'd be a well and dirty tale," Ygritte kissed me on the shuck of the ear. "Too dirty for them south o' the Wall. Thought you was a proper wally lordling, Jon Snow.  
Alas, Winterfell's tainted blood!"

I laughed, and hard enough."I would sing it to you, but my chords are sliced. Couldn't carry a note for bread or salt."

"More's the pity," Ygritte breathed. "I'll sing it to you. If only you do that thing you did, with your tongue. For that I'll sing _lots._ "

I started to smirk, turning the other way.

"I'd sing lots more, if you would only, _hm_ , fuck me again— _and leave me fit and filled."_

My heart might have stopped at that. "Ygritte."

She fell out of my arms; looked wary.

"... Jon Snow."

"I meant what I said."

"As did I. You don't want a child by me. So I'll not let it happen."

"How is that?"

"There are ways. You can take charge of some, even."

"I want to…" My voice turned soft. "I want _you_."

"So have me."

"I can't."

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

I sighed. "… I know."

Ygritte gave a soft laugh. "I can make it so you want to get me with child. I could tell you how your seed felt, when you sent it inside of me."

 _Like punching in a dream._ "Ygritte—"

"I can _still_ feel it there," Ygritte made a pleasurable sound— half a moan, half a sigh. "It's heavy and light at the same instant. _Nn,_ it won't be still."

Her tongue glistened as she ran it over her teeth. "I had hoped it might quicken there. But we can't have that happen, can we."

"No," I said, serious unlike she ever was. "We can't."

Ygritte sighed. "Though it was a sweet dream, Jon Snow. _Ever_ sweet."

 _Was_ , I heard her say.

* * *

She was shrugging now— in a sort of affected indifference.

But a grin soon spread itself across her face. She whistled,  
" _Lost it in a cave …_ your mother would be so proud."

I caught and knocked her to the ground, pinning her down by the arms—

Besides laughing, Ygritte seemed dully impressed. Her red hair fanned out into the snow, the brightest shade of sun I'd ever seen.

"You're beautiful," I said, from my seating astride her hips.

She just smiled. "You're a proper lover, Jon Snow."

I started to move against her.

"Can you tell? I'm an experienced man?"

Ygritte pushed me right off, laughing like that was some huge joke. _"Sure_ I can. But no-one else will. They won't hardly tell the difference."

I heard Orell right after.

"The crow is actin' queer. I don't trust him."

I wanted nothing better than to treat him with steel _,_ but Ygritte spoke for me. _"_ You don't trust a living thing, so shut your beak, Orell."

His eagle, overhead, shrieked fury.

"A free man says what 'e pleases," Orell grumbled. "He'll betray us, soon'e have the chance."

 _Maybe Ygritte was wrong,_ I thought. Maybe everyone _could_ tell.

"A free man _does_ what 'e pleases, too. Don't he, Jon Snow?"

"Yes," I said, half-wincing.

 _Gods may damn me._

* * *

Later, Tormund approached me, leaning in close.

His voice came out a gruff whisper.

"Tell me true, Jon Snow," a line that made me nervous, "... what's happened to your face? It's as if blood's about to come gushing out of your ears."

I had been thinking of Ygritte, naked. I was blushed everywhere.

"It's nothing, it's not what you think. It's just… _sunburn_."

"A _what_?"

"From getting too much sun."

"I know what sunburn is, lad. But it couldn't be— there's hardly four hours of sun in a day! Are you ill?"

I looked away. This seemed to confirm Tormund's real suspicion.

"It's the girl, ain't it! You and her!"

I started to walk, leaving Tormund and his grin behind, but he came right along with.

"There's no girl."

"You're a free man now, and Ygritte is a free woman. What's the harm in laying together?"

I stopped walking. "I might as soon get her with child."

"Aye, I'd hope you would. A son by Ygritte would be brave and strong. A daughter, lively and apple-cheeked, kissed by fire. _"_

"A bastard." _There's no other word for it._

"Bastard children are born of lust and lies," I recited. _Their nature is wanton and treacherous._

"Are bastards weaker than other children? More sickly; more like to fail?"

"No _,_ but—"

"We don't have bastardy here, and we're better for it. It's stupid pointless, a cruelty! None of us ask to be born."

I was resolute. "I will not father a bastard. _Never!"_

"Kneeling fool." Tormund shook his head. "Jon Snow, tell me true. You love her?"

I nodded once, looking Tormund right in the eye.

"So, your child would be born o' this love. Love and light. Nothing wrong with that. Not this... _lust and lies."  
_ Tormund took a step back. "Did you save a length of that cord you bound her with? You _forcing_ her to the furs?"

"No!" _What kind of person did he make me out to be?_

"... So, you wouldn't be forcing her with child— and I've known men to be so cruel. Well, y'might not be cruel, but she's right. Y'know nothing at all."

Words failed me for a moment. After everything, arguing would get me no-where with Tormund.

He shrugged. "It could be that she does not want a child, ever thought o' that? She will go to the woods witch and drink a cup o' moon tea. It's not up to you— once the seed is planted. The man need not come into it; only the woman knows if she's got enough love to make a life."

I sighed outward, looking to the sky. "She _does_ want a child, and told me herself."

"Seven hells. This girl would have your seed— _but you won't give it to 'er?"_

"Tormund—"

"By all the gods... Ygritte is strong and free and fierce and beautiful, and she wants your fruit inside her. You're a lucky man, Jon Snow. I had been ten, maybe eight years younger, I'd've stolen Ygritte meself... but why steal her, if not t'—"

" _Steal her?_ I never—"

"You slew them she was with, made her _yield_ to you, and carried her off! I'll be damned if she didn't put up a good fight."

 _Once I let my guard down, off she ran,_ I remembered. _I chased after her. Bound her wrists; marched her through rock and snow and ice._

"I never _meant_ to steal her," I huffed.

"In the eye of the free folk, you've been wed— and you do not want a child. I will never understand such madness."

"Free folk or no," I started, "Ygritte shouldn't bear a child for years yet. She's only a girl. She could not imagine the pain."

"Well, how would you know?"

"I _don't know—_ but have I spoken some jest?"

Tormund paused a moment. "It changes you, to see your love brought to tears, your love brought to life. I had five children, Jon Snow. One daughter, and four sons. The first came 'round when I was your age, or near enough to make no difference. I remember when I held me Munda the first time..." Tormund's eyes shone wistfully. "I never knew a girl could be so small. I never knew a heart could be so at ease."

He clasped me on the shoulder. "Pray your seed will quicken, Jon Snow. It will be the best thing that's ever happened to you."

I watched him go.

* * *

x **KissedbyDirt**

Chapter posted May the 5th; content revised on May the 5th, May the 11th— and most recently on June the 29th. _  
_  
 _MAY 5th: This chapter was so very fun to write! Ygritte gave a soft laugh— that bit there, especially. I may not post a new chapter for a while yet, but please bear with me. Count of views for this story— 3,250 … which is perfectly amazing. Thank-you!_

 _MAY 11th: I probably won't update as long as season six still airs, not that I'm watching. Patience doesn't go online. Spoilers all._

 _JUNE 29th: I meant to make this revision a while ago, but never bothered. I noticed so many little mistakes from the start. I feel a little better now._  
 _Count of views for this story at present is now something more like 6,749! Thank-you!  
_


	7. Author's Notes

[/kbd]

x **KissedbyDirt** x

 _I have reserved this chapter for my Author's Notes.  
_ _I also plan to utilize this space for replying to reviews, as deserved, and sharing my thoughts on the story, separate from the content itself.  
If you have a question about the story, pose it and post it, and my answer will be here.  
_

I recognize the crime, reserving a whole chapter for Author's Notes.  
It feels a bit deceitful. Without a doubt, it will up the word count without lengthening the story. Sorry.  
Note: I still can't bear to not give some sort of A/N at the end of each new chapter.

* * *

Reviews:

 _Thank you so much for [13] reviews thus far!  
(If you'd rather my reply not be posted here, for whatever reason that might be, just send a PM.)_

 _murasen_ _—  
_ [1] Oh my goodness, I just smiled and smiled to read that. Thank-you! I felt I might be able to succeed in the first person because I really, truly felt I knew the characters. Not to say I never write them OOC. I've written and read several character analyses for Jon and Ygritte, though, and of course had my ideas about where their story might lead. That always helps, in writing this kind of thing.  
[2] Yes! I'm sure that love will last. I have loved Jon and Ygritte for strong over a year now, though feels as if it as been much longer.  
Ygritte was actually introduced to me as "a character I was sure to like". I feared immediately for her death, and hoped that she and Jon would have a love affair. In awaits to see the third season, I think I sought out the books to see if they would get together. I was an eager bird, to be sure.

 _TheManApart_ — Thanks! I'll be sure to keep it going. I will encounter my blocks, but I always come back. I have yet to prove it, but it's true! I always want things to be sort-of-almost-perfect, and that can intimidate me enough not to write at all. Your review was mighty fine encouragement, though!

 _MegKY—_

[1] You couldn't imagine how much those words have warmed my heart. Such an intricate review; I couldn't have dreamed to have such nice words said about my writing. You're incredibly kind! Although I can't promise a butterfly ending, I promise to offset with sugar and bees' sap when deserved. I do update the chapter content regularly, with minute changes only I can notice, and I do end up feeling ridiculous for it… but devoted is such a nice word to name it. Thank-you—! I hope you'll continue to read this story as I publish it, unreliable though I am.

[2] This is such an encouraging review. You write the loveliest things! As the author of this story, I feel a great deal of pressure to update— pressure that is self-applied, mostly. I have so many words to go through, and they so often won't go together. _(I wonder if I have this whole story written already, and I just can't seem to bring it together!)_ My ideas are disorganized, and my materials as well— I have probably a year's worth of stuff to go through— loose-leaf, journals, napkins, my Notes app; somewhere online, somewhere lost. I am still required to fully dissect A Song of Ice and Fire— I'm not sure if I've even read every Jon chapter. I know there are some smashing good quotes and details that I want to include in this story; that I don't want to miss out on… but I have to find them first! Mostly, I feel overwhelmed. But. Reviews like yours are just. I don't know what to say.

 _Darryl—_ Hello! Thank-you for the review! You bring to life a definite issue about my story here. It's not dealing whatsoever in current events; it's very season-three era. I do apologize for dealing so much in the past. I suppose it's my favourite timeplace; everyone was a little happier back then. Also It may be noted that I am not incredibly familiar with _Thrones_ past season four; I haven't finished the fifth season _(watched; 5.01, 5.02, 5.03)_ and all I've seen of season six is the first episode _—_ in addition to some horribly spoiler scenes from the most recent episodes. I do plan to deal in the happenings of S5 and S6 eventually, but not yet, and perhaps not in this story— especially in case of S6. I have the major events of this story planned out and they do not depend so much on "whether or not Jon lives". Hopefully my writing will please you all the same. Thank-you for the follow, and again for the review— also, thanks for calling my story cute!

 _september again_ — Things, of course, won't play out just as you know them. The fate I have planned for both Jon and Ygritte is a relatively complicated one; a surprise one. It has tormented me many a night... thrilled me by morning; depressed me by day. Given everything supplied in the shows and books, I sometimes wonder if my conclusion will even be possible. It makes no matter; this story will have yielded to me by the end, as I am adamant, and have themes to follow.

 _LaYgrose19_ —  
[1] Aw, I'm glad! I'll try my best. We're both excited to see how this story will turn out. I like your name, by the way. You're effectively referencing a lot, with a name like that. It's quite clever and nice.  
[2] I actually read your second review just after you posted it. I'd swung around with the intention of perhaps removing trace of this story on this site, because I felt bad that I wasn't updating— even though I always meant to. I worried that I was disappointing my readers, you included. Thank-you so much for writing to me, a review for two chapters is more than I could've expected. Thank-you so much! I want an update as much as you, believe me.

 _viki_ — I'm glad you're liking this story! I hope I won't disappoint you. I can't decide which I should be more worried about— how bad my writing is [or seems, at least to me] or how infrequently I manage to update. You'll have to forgive me many a time.

 _Almighty Spartan_ —  
[1] Thank-you so much for the review! I'm happy to read your review, and hopefully you'll still like this story as it gets longer and a bit silly. Sometimes, I'll read the things I've written, and I am actually hurt. It pains me. _  
_[2] So I get this incredible warm feeling when someone compliments my smut... hah. I was afraid it would be terrible to read, despite my felt need to write it. It's a part of being perverted, I suppose— and a virgin. I'm glad you liked my _purple prose_ ; hopefully I can improve my work just the same. There's no place I want to go but up.  
When Jon leaves, the story is just beginning~!

 _Spiff's Oliphaunt_ — Thanks for the review! About the name of this story; I searched case "There Are No Bastards North of the Wall" many a time in the ASOIAF books and on the web. Indubitably this would also search the content of each book for the phrase [google books or rather] and still nothing shows up. This was certainly Tormund's meaning, when he was talking to Jon in the third book… but the phrase is never _explicitly_ said. _There still may be a glimmer of a chance that I am wrong._ If someone can match me me with exact page and passage, I will gladly accept being incorrect.

* * *

 _As my reader, you can be as silent or as vocal as you wish to be, though we are more likely to become friends if you talk to me lots._

* * *

Updates:

 _I am always here, even when it seems I am not; even if there is more than half a year between updates. I will always come back. I have high hopes for this story, and I feel I owe it to myself— and to you, the reader— to finish it eventually._

I never update the moment I finish a chapter; and I spend five times longer editing a story than writing one. Though I have completed several more appealing passages into the future of the story, there are several events happening more immediately that I cannot think how to write. Take the Wall scene, for example. I am thoroughly intimidated by that one. I'll do my best, but I worry for it. I could never do it justice— not for all the gods.

I don't mind reviews just telling me to update, so long as they're polite enough. They remind me that people really actually reading and would appreciate an update— and where's the harm in that?

* * *

 _Inspiration comes and goes, but having readers, reviewers, is a fine thing. It does inspire.  
_

* * *

Personal:

 **February 2016** : I was just about ready to delete this story, for guilt and lack of promised update; no flow to my writing; a bit of a loss for words; inspiration drought; a real-life study schedule that I should get be bringing into effect, _etc._ , but now I couldn't dream of it, seeing how I've read your reviews.  
I can't thank you enough for them— they mean a lot to me, so much that I want to get better with my updates. I really do. I'm afraid writing has always been a very gradual sort of thing for me... it's how I get hundreds on my essays... when I'm not passing them in late.

 **March 2016** : We've moved to Montreal, my family and me. Different life. There may be less opportunity for update. Library internet is the only internet available. I may also have to entertain a social life, or rather, attempt at one. I don't really have friends, in real-life or otherwise, who like _Game of Thrones,_ which is sad.

 **April 2016** : Goals for this story ...  
— Theme-oriented, rather than event-oriented  
— Realistic banter; archaic words and expressions  
— Copius amounts of sex, stirring phrases

 **May 2016** : I started the month in the sharpness of discouragement. I hadn't wanted to find out about Jon Snow like that. I was only wondering what Rose Leslie had been up to, since that Dr. Faustus thing. But since Kit and Rose are going steady, one equals the other obviously. That was two days after 6.02 aired. On May the 20th I finally sent a message to murasen asking if they wanted to be friends— and I've been inspired ever since! We talk _Thrones,_ of course.

 **June 2016** : At this point I'm trying to organize my thoughts, develop ASOIAF theories and lean on some others, sort through my documents, conceptualize— I want this story to be the best it could be. I'm drawing lots of inspiration from the books, but they're incredibly hard to get through. I may soon put this story on hiatus— just so I can organize my thoughts, and deal with more the more immediate chaos of life.

 **July 2016** : Forthcoming.

 **Always 2016** : I regard this story with guilt and hope and a bit of a perverse anticipation _._ I want to work on it at every chance, but I feel a bit frozen. _  
_

_That being said, thank-you for reading !_


End file.
